The Secret to Hummingbird Cake (16 page)

Poppa Jack dropped us at the ER door and we ran inside. Jack was waiting for us.

“They took her back as soon as we got here,” he said. “Laine said she wasn't in much pain. Frankly, I'm not sure that was true. Debra said it started as soon as she got up this morning and it was a significant hemorrhage. I don't know anything more than that.”

Ella Rae cried. I got mad. In other words, things were as normal as you could expect them to be in this situation.

For the next hour, I paced back and forth, trying to see
between the crack in the doors, hoping to catch a glimpse inside the dungeon. She was back there somewhere, and I was in a state of high alert. But as long as I couldn't see anyone in scrubs rushing or shoving carts around, or hear anybody yelling “code blue”—whatever that meant—I could convince myself she was okay. So I watched through that little sliver of daylight for nearly thirty minutes before Jack made me sit down. And I only complied because he said the stress wasn't good for the baby.

No one would answer any questions, and the sixteen-year-old gum-popping receptionist was about one more bubble from having Ella Rae snatch her out of her chair and send her back there to fetch some information. She was miraculously saved when an ER nurse came out and said, “Carrigan Whitfield? Ella Weeks? You can come in now.”

We nearly ran over each other getting to the door.

“She's in room 8, to your left,” the nurse said.

We walked into the small room and found her sitting up in the bed.

“Hey, y'all.” She smiled.

I could've slapped her. Then hugged her. Then slapped her again.

“You scared us to death,” I said.

“What happened?” Ella Rae said.

“The tumor started bleeding,” Laine said. “They've stopped it now, but I need a little procedure to have it cauterized. It's not a big deal.” She looked more pale than usual, but her voice was strong and she was in good spirits.

“Of course it's a big deal, Laine,” I said.

“No, really it isn't,” she said. “They will do the surgery, give me a couple of pints of new blood, and send me home. I'll be good as new. I've called Mama. Mrs. Diane called her right after we left this morning, then went to pick her up. They'll be here shortly. It's okay. Y'all go home.”

Neither Ella Rae nor I had an answer for that.

Laine gave me a puzzled look. “What's the matter?”

“What's the matter?” I said. “Really?”

“We thought you were dying,” Ella Rae said.

“I am,” Laine said.

“Stop it!” I said. “I hate it when you do that. Be serious.”

“Carrigan, everything about this place, this situation, this whole thing, is serious. It's why I don't want to be. This is no place for you right now. It isn't good for the baby. You need to go home. Ella Rae, you too. I need to spend some time with Mama. I'll be home in a couple of days. I promise.”

“Why are you rushing us out of here?”

“Because you don't need to be here,” she said. “You could get the Swahili flu around this place. Now wash your hands and get out of here.”

“You promise that's all the doctor said?” Ella Rae asked.

“I promise,” Laine said. “I would tell you if it were anything else. My oncologist was in the hospital making rounds this morning, so they paged him and he was the one who told me what was happening. I promise. He says I'll feel better after this little procedure. It truly isn't a big deal. I'd just like to spend this time with Mama. Alone.”

“Do you need anything?” Ella Rae said.

“Food, clothes, anything?” I said.

“No,” Laine answered. “I'll be in this lovely designer gown with my backside showing for a couple of days. Debra had the presence of mind to grab my robe when we left. I doubt I'll go dancing on the way home. So I'm all set. Go home. Do something for the next couple of days that doesn't revolve around me. It'll be good for both of you.”

We left reluctantly, with Laine shooing us out the door. Poppa Jack stayed to ride home with Mrs. Diane, and Debra rode back with Jack. Ella Rae and I left in Poppa Jack's SUV.

“That scared me, Carrigan,” she said.

“It scared me too.”

“I can't believe she made us leave,” Ella Rae said. “But I get that she wants her mama.”

“I get it too. Doesn't mean I didn't want to stay, though.”

I know,” Ella Rae said.

“I wish Mrs. Jeannette would just come stay at the house. There's plenty of room.”

“She's just a lady like that, Carrigan. Doesn't want to impose. You and I are imposers.”

I laughed. “You and I are a great many things.”

“Carrigan . . . your shirt is moving back and forth by itself. Is that Henry the Eighth doing all that?”

I laughed again. “It is. Wanna feel it?”

“No . . . Kinda . . . I'm not sure.”

“You're thirty years old. You've never felt a baby move?”

“Okay, I don't just walk up to any random pregnant chick and put my hand on her stomach.”

“Just give me your hand.”

“No!”

“Hurry while it's still turning flips.”

“Is it weird?”

“Is that why you won't ever touch my belly? You think it's weird?”

“Look . . . I just don't have that whole ‘Wow . . . you're glowing . . . I'm enchanted' maternal thing going on.”

“No? You're kidding me.” I don't think anybody had suspected Ella Rae of a maternal streak.

“Ha-ha. I mean, I'm happy for you if you're happy. I just don't see me doing it. Ever.”

“Never say never, Rae. And give me your hand.”

She finally put her hand on my belly, and after a few seconds the baby put on a show.

Ella Rae's hand flew over her mouth. “Are you kidding me? That is so cool! It's like a big lizard rolling around in there! I bet it's all slimy and slick.”

I threw her hand off me. “A lizard?”

“No, let me feel!”

“No,” I said, “you are not calling my baby a lizard. Now play with the radio and keep your hands off me. I'm driving.”

“That was seriously different,” she said. “When we get home, I think I'll watch
Jurassic Park
.”

A classic Ella Rae moment.

Laine rallied after the transfusion and actually looked and felt better than she had in weeks. Christmas was a happy time at the Farm for everyone, but I couldn't seem to dredge up the spirit. I tried not to let it permeate everything, but in my heart of hearts, I knew this was Laine's last December. I was moody and weepy most of the month, but managed to sell it as hormone wars. At least I sold it to everybody but Jack.

“I don't know why you think you have to be brave even when we're alone,” he told me in bed on Christmas Eve. That was all it took. I cried myself to sleep on his shoulder and woke up Christmas morning determined to have a good day.

And it was. The house was full to the brim with family—Jack's, mine, Ella Rae's, and Laine's. It was a joyful day, full of laughter and love. Laine gave Ella Rae and me each a picture that she'd had enlarged and framed—a snapshot of the three of us sitting on the old stone bridge at Willow Creek.

Tommy had snapped that picture of us with the new camera Ella Rae had given him for his birthday. He loved to take pictures of wildlife and said Ella Rae and I were the perfect example of that, and Laine was a doe caught in headlights. That was still a running joke.

The bridge had long been out of use and was covered in moss and ferns. Laine was pointing to something in the water, and Ella Rae was looking at it, smiling. I had my head thrown back laughing. It was a beautiful, unplanned shot that caught the spirit of us all.

For New Year's Eve, Jack planned a fireworks show at the Farm. One of his buddies owned a demolition company, and another one owned a fireworks company. I knew Sean O'Reilly, the explosives friend. Years ago he blew up a beaver dam on the creek behind the old barn, and blew off his little finger in the process. Jack assured me there would be no holes in the earth this time and that Sean had gotten much better at what he did now.

He was right. The show was spectacular.

The Farm had become the gathering place for close friends and family as the months had gone by. New Year's Eve brought a huge crowd. While Ella Rae had once been reluctant to rub my belly, it never fazed anyone else. Thirty people touched my stomach that night. I had become accustomed to it, but I don't think Jack ever cared for it. Around ten o'clock, he came and stood behind me and laced his fingers across my stomach.

I laughed. “Are you jealous?”

“I'm not,” he said. “I'd just rather not watch everybody in town lay their hands on you.”

“So you are jealous.”

“Probably,” he said. “Anyway, problem solved.”

The stroke of midnight came and we toasted with champagne, and for me, apple juice. This pregnancy had been relatively easy on me, except for the nausea early on. But for a girl who used to party until the wee hours, when ten p.m. came, I was ready to go to bed. So midnight was a stretch for
me. I said good night to the crowd and climbed the stairs to our bedroom. Jack walked up with me and asked me if I wanted him to stay.

“No, not at all,” I said. “Go mingle with the peeps. I'll be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

He nuzzled my neck. “What if I want to love on my wife when I come to bed?”

“You do whatever you gotta do, buddy.” I put my hands on either side of his face. “Just don't wake me up.”

“Ouch.” He winced and held his chest. “You got me.” He popped me on the backside with his palm and slipped out the door.

I had just turned the light off when the bedroom door opened again. I didn't bother to turn over. “Give it up, Jack Whitfield. No sex tonight.”

Laine giggled. “Come on, just one time.”

I flipped on the light to find Laine and Ella Rae standing in my bedroom, each holding a bottle of champagne and covered in confetti and streamers. “What are y'all doing?”

“What are
you
doing?” Laine said.

I sat up in bed and threw back the covers. “Ella Rae! Did you let her get drunk? You know she's not supposed to drink while she's taking pain pills!”

“Will you chill out?” Ella Rae said. “She's only had, like, I don't know, a half a bottle.” Ella Rae looked at her own bottle. “And I've only had, like, two. It ain't that big a deal.”

“Half a bottle? She can't drink a shot glass of alcohol, Rae, you know that! Sit down, Laine,” I said. “Are you okay?”

She plopped down in the overstuffed chair and rolled her eyes. “You need to get over yourself, Missy. And by the way, I did have my medication and I did wash it down with champagne and it was goooooood!”

Ella Rae jumped into my bed and stuffed the pillows behind her. “Here's what,” she said. “Laine got a little drunk . . .”

“I told you not to say drunk.” Laine put a finger to her lips.

“I mean tipsy,” Ella Rae said. “Laine got a little tipsy . . . so she could explain death to us.”

“Not that either, idiot.” Laine snatched the bottle away from her. “You drank it all?”

“Ahhh.” Ella Rae pulled a bottle from the pocket of her coat. “But I came prepared.”

“Thank God!” Laine rubbed her hands together while Ella Rae struggled with the cork.

Laine and Ella Rae drinking while I was pregnant and trying to sleep? This had surely been a season of firsts. I watched Ella Rae fumble with the cork for a full thirty seconds before I said, “Give it here. You're going to put somebody's eye out.” I twisted the wire and popped the cork. “Here you go.”

“I'm sorry you can't have any,” Ella Rae said.

“I'm good,” I said. “Now what are we here to discuss?”

They looked at each other, clueless.

“My funeral,” Laine said. “I want to plan my funeral.”